


The Wedding of the Century

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after graduating, Sam Evans is working at Burt Hummel's autobody shop and all of the members of New Directions are scattered around the country.  Everyone is coming home for The Wedding of the Century (aka Finn and Rachel) save for Mercedes Jones-Tinsley.  Rachel sends Sam to Vegas to find Mercedes and bring her back home.  This is their story of finding each other again after all of this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soy Mocha

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jules1278](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jules1278).



Part One of your Birthday Prezzie:

  
_Soy Mocha_   


  


  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/prplhez8/pic/0006xk6w/)   


  
  
[Source](http://weheartit.com/prplhez8/sets/1143411-the-wedding-of-the-century)   


Sam slipped the bodyguard a fifty and walked along the hallway until he came to a door labeled ‘Soy Mocha’. Shaking his head, he opened the door. He could hear Mercedes’ voice coming from the stage, so he left the door ajar slightly. Sam surveyed the room as Mercedes voice drifted in. There were pictures all around the mirror of the gang when they had been in New Directions with a few additions: Kurt and Blaine on their wedding day, Quinn when she’d graduated from Yale, Brittany and Santana in their new apartment, and lastly, Sam and Puck outside of Hummel Auto in their coveralls. Sam wasn’t sure where Mercedes had come up with that picture other than Kurt sending it to her after a quick visit home awhile back.

“Where are you?” Sam asked no on in particular as he searched all over the pictures for a sight of the girl he once knew. “Where are you, Mercedes Jones?”

“Sam?”

He spun on the spot. Mercedes was standing just inside the door. She was in a gold get up that had every feasible part of her covered in sequins and there was some sort of feathered concoction on her head.

“Soy Mocha?”

Rolling her eyes, Mercedes shut the door and strode into the room. She tossed earrings on the table top before she stuck a hand on her hip.

“How the hell did _you_ get in here?”

“Grant.”

“What?” Her brows furrowed together in a way that made him want to run his finger down it to smooth them out. He’d done it in a different lifetime when he was young, very very young.

“President Grant,” he replied. Flipping open his wallet, he pulled another fifty dollar bill from it and showed it to her.

“Son of a bitch,” she said.

Sam smiled as he ducked his head. Stowing the fifty back in his billfold, he looked up again. Mercedes was putting on a robe over her costume and tying her hair up in a scarf.

“What do you want, Sam?”

He extracted the wedding invitation from his other back pocket and tossed it on the table.

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/prplhez8/pic/00071s2y/)   


  
[Source](http://weheartit.com/entry/17534824)   


“Rachel,” they both said at the same time.

“She sent you here after me.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Sam looked around and found an armchair in the corner and sat down. Resting his hands on his elbows, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Been driving for the better part of ten hours because that woman chewed my ass up one side and down the other.”

“Why’d she yell at you?”

“No reason,” Sam said. It wasn’t something he wanted to get into with Mercedes. Well, not at three a.m. anyway. Or ever. Never would be good. “She just wants you there at that wedding and I’ve been instructed to bring you back.”

“Now?”

“I should be back to work by Monday otherwise Burt might kick my ass. Or Puck. That is if you wanna hitch a ride back with me.”

Mercedes picked up the invitation and ran her fingers over the invitation.

“They’re really doing it?”

“Sure are. Been driving everyone and their dog nuts with the plans. Seriously, Mercedes, if I see another cumberbund I might puke. Or die. Or both.”

She laughed softly. And walked over and handed him back the invite.

“I can’t, Sam. I just can’t.”

He let his gaze travel up Mercedes’ body until their eyes met.

“The Mercedes I knew never said can’t.”

She smiled softly.

“That girl doesn’t exist any more.”

“What happened to her?”  
“She grew up.”

Going with the feeling in his gut, Sam reached out and tangled his fingers with hers. He saw it as a good sign when she didn’t automatically pull away.

“Come home, Mercedes. It’s time.”

He didn’t expect the tears in her eyes when he looked away from their hands. Mercedes cried when she was hurting for someone else 99% of the time but this was different. This was defeat. He’d been beaten around enough on the football field and God knows he’d felt like shit a lot of the time after his family had been homeless. This look he knew. It was a whupped dog.

“They need you to be there. It’s their big day, Mercedes. Wouldn’t be right without you there to share it.”

She wiped away a tear that had slid down her cheek and huffed out a laugh. She tipped her head up towards the ceiling and then looked back down at their joined hands.

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/prplhez8/pic/0006ysa3/)   


  
  
[Source](earlybirdcatchestheworm.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/glee-sam-mercedes-holding-hands.jpg)   


“You gonna be in a tux, Sam Evans?”

“Yeah, got sized for my monkey suit two weeks ago.”

“What colors she got the girls wearing?”

He gave her his best ‘come on’ look and she laughed.

“Right, right. Sorry I asked.”

“You could call Kurt. I bet he’d know.”

She laughed again and pulled away. Sam linked his own fingers together. His hands felt empty all of a sudden without Mercedes’ to hold onto.

“We haven’t been talking an awful lot.”

“You been talking to any of ‘em?”

“Not much.”

Sam leaned back in the chair and watched her. When he’d come back to New Directions for his Senior Year, he’d done plenty of Mercedes watching. It got to be a habit more than anything. If she walked in a room, he knew it. He loved looking at her, to be honest. He loved watching her smile, and laugh, and talk. There was just something he’d never gotten over after falling in love with her for the first time.

Not sure it was something he was ever gonna get over.

And damn Rachel Berry for pointing that out...again.

“Okay. Here’s the deal: You can get your stuff together and come back home or you can stay here and keep on doing what you’re doing.”

“What good is it gonna do if I go back home, Sam?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Sam stood up and walked over to where she stood. Looking down at her, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But you aren’t happy here. Might do you a world of good to go home, lick your wounds or whatever and figure out what to do next.”

She seemed to make up her mind in the next minute as she grabbed a bag from her closet and tossed it at Sam. He caught it with an ‘oomph’ and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Grab those pictures and the stuff on the table. I’ll get my clothes.”

In a short fifteen minutes, they had all of her dressing room stuffed inside of two duffel bags and her last paycheck in her back pocket as they walked out into the parking lot.

“We’re gonna have to stop by the Piggly Wiggly and grab some boxes. I’ll have Rhonda send my stuff out to me.”

“Mercedes, I’m driving a _truck_. Take it now.”

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/prplhez8/pic/0006z5bx/)   


  
[Source](http://weheartit.com/entry/13569368)   


Part of him didn’t want to give her an excuse to come back to this hell hole. He’d been in front of those bright lights and been pawed at - he knew. He felt like hell at the time and embarrassed more than anything. He didn’t want her coming back to all that.

“Whatever,” she said.

Two hours later they were eating omelets bigger than their heads and after Mercedes yawned for the tenth time, Sam went up and paid the bill.

He drove them to a bed and breakfast just outside of town. The green lawn reminded him of Ohio and he wanted to be home right this second, but knew there was a long truck ride ahead. A nice old woman at the front desk gave them two room keys. He walked Mercedes to her room.Sticking the key in the lock, he nudged the door open and dropped her duffel carefully inside the door.

“I’ll call Berry and let ‘em know we’re on our way after we get some shut eye.”

He nodded and backed out towards the hallway, his own room, and maybe some sleep finally when Mercedes said his name.

“Yeah?” he asked, peeking his head back around the door.

“Thanks.”

“It’s fine,” he said. He gave her a half-wave and backed out of the room. He shut the door and touched the number eight on the door. “Sweet dreams.”

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/prplhez8/pic/000704yk/)   


  
[Source](http://weheartit.com/entry/19006171)   


Walking back towards his room, he whistled under his breath. He might be able to sleep decent for the first time in weeks.  



	2. We Are Young

They pulled into Lima on Sunday night as the sun was setting. The truck came to a rolling stop in front of Rachel’s dad’s house. Turning off the ignition, Sam sat still. The drive had been long and quiet. Ten years ago, they’d have talked and chatted the whole way home, but they’d filled up those silences comfortable enough just by being around one another. Sam figured it was just Mercedes way of getting her game face on before she had to face everyone again.

“Sam -” Mercedes began.

He turned to look at her just about the time he heard the front door of Rachel’s house slam.

And then, there they all were.

Mercedes was pulled from the truck by Kurt who hugged her so tight Sam was pretty sure he saw Mercedes’ eyes bug out. He chuckled and began grabbing her duffels and things from the bed of the truck. Finn came out to help and after a handshake of welcome home, Sam followed Finn into the house with Mercedes’ things.

Helping himself to a cup of coffee, Sam followed voices into the living room. He almost choked on the hot joe when he saw everyone in there. It was literally everyone from their small group.

All of the girls - women, his mind corrected - were gathered around Mercedes and chattering about a million miles an hour. Plus, Kurt. He grinned into his coffee and took a sip.

“Thanks for bringing her home, man.”

Sam just nodded at Finn in reply. Wasn’t really anything he could say with coffee burning a trail down his throat anyway. But, he couldn’t tell Finn how much he’d missed Mercedes. He’d missed her laugh more than anything and he really couldn’t tell Finn how good it felt holding her hand for all of ten seconds back there in Vegas.

“No problem.”

“Rachel’s stoked that Mercedes is here. You _know_ this wouldn’t have been the same without her.”

“Nothing’s the same without Mercedes,” Sam said without thinking. “I mean -”

He felt a firm clap on the back of his neck and heard Finn laugh.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Finn said. “I got my girl back Sam, maybe you should get yours.”

“Don’t know if she wants that or not.”

Just then Mercedes looked over at them and locked eyes on Sam and smiled. It was the first smile he’d seen from her in a long time. It made his insides go all upside down and it felt good. He smiled back.

“There’s your answer.”

“Shut up, Hudson.” Sam looked away from Mercedes and shoved Finn’s shoulder. “Rachel’s dads have anything to eat or do we need to take this bunch to Breadstix?”

The girls must’ve overheard as a chorus of ‘BREADSTIX’ rang out loudly in the small room.

“Shit,” Sam and Finn said together...and then laughed.

“You’re driving,” Sam said as he shoved Finn out the door of the living room. “More room in that fancy rig of yours.”

“It’s a Bronco, Sam. It isn’t fancy. Just bigger.”

“Well, last time I tried putting people in the bed of my truck, I got pulled over.”

“Right. Rach can take the Hummer and I’ll take the Bronco.”

Sam smiled and he and Finn ran for the door of the house. At the last minute, before they all ran out the door, Sam yelled.

“SHOTGUN.”

“Damnit, Evans, you can’t ride shotgun every time,” Puck yelled.

“I can if I call it.”

After a small scuffle, Puck ended up on his lap somehow. Sam laughed and laughed as Kurt asked if Sam and Puck were switching ‘teams’.

And that was the last moment of sanity that Sam would know for the next two weeks. They laughed and smiled and cried that night as they tore apart little pieces of breadsticks and ate too much pasta and laughed too loud and talked too long and the night was perfect before all of the crazy that involved the Berry-Hudson wedding descended on them.

Two weeks later, Sam stood near Finn as he took Rachel’s hands and they got hitched. Finn said some pretty embarrassing shit, but Sam figured if you couldn’t say it in front of this group, then it just might not be worth saying at all. They had pretty much heard it all in the short time they’d been together ten years ago. They’d dealt with teenage pregnancy, alcohol, discrimination, cheating (in more ways than one), broken hearts, and so much more.

He looked across at Mercedes who was wearing some sort of purple get up and he smiled. Her hair was piled up in a neat twist and she was dabbing at her eyes.

“Softie,” he whispered without thinking. She looked over at him and he winked.

He lost his vest and untied the bowtie about five minutes after the reception started. He loved purple as much as the next guy, but a dude could only look so manly wearing it for so long even if he thought Rachel and her subtle matchmaking was cute, he lost the vest. It was too purple for his taste. He’d outgrown Bieber ten years ago, thank God.

Tossing his jacket on the nearest chair, Sam grabbed a red cup and filled it with beer from the keg. It might not be the crazy ass mix up that Rach had made them once upon a time, but a beer got a guy by now and again. The girls were dancing around Rachel and singing and laughing. He sipped from the beer, wiping the foam from his lip, he watched. Rachel looked like a fairy princess with white lights twinkling behind her and she might be famous and shit all over the world but this was the best role he’d ever seen her play. It lit her up from the inside. Being loved by Finn was the best thing for her, it always had been, Sam thought.

“Too good to dance with girls, trouty mouth?”

Sam smiled before he turned. Putting the beer down, he wound his arms around Santana.

“You’re looking good, lady,” he did in his best Sean Connery brogue.

“Quit talking like that. It confuses me with Leprachaun boy when you do that,” she said, while nodding off towards Rory.

Sam laughed and hugged her again.

Just then Quinn skipped off the dance floor fanning her face.

“Those girls can still _dance_.” She looked around on the table and grabbed Sam’s red solo cup. “You’re supposed to put your name on that, Sam.”

She grabbed a sharpie - they’d been placed strategically on every place setting. Sam personally thought it might be a bad idea. Seriously, by the end of the night they could all have Navi warrior symbols all over their bodies and swinging from the rafters. _Wait - did tents have rafters?_ Quinn wrote his name on the cup with a few swirling lines and heart symbols, took a drink, and handed it back to him. He took the cup ignoring the ‘Bieber’ on his cup and drank.

Just then Jack and Diane poured out of the speakers. He looked over at Quinn and knew exactly what she was thinking. He felt an absent peck on his cheek as Santana wandered back towards Brittany and Quinn replaced the spot Santana had left.

“Hold onto sixteen?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

They swayed along to the music and Sam watched Mercedes dance with Mike as Tina whirled around the floor with Artie.

“You happy, Quinn?” He looked down at her. Her hair was still the same - short and sassy - and she still looked exactly like the Quinn Fabray that he remembered.

“I like working at the Yale Drama Department.”

“Meant your love life, lady.”

“Is anyone ever happy with their love life?”

Sam laughed at that.

“Naw, I doubt it. Unless your Berry and Hudson,” he said, gesturing at them with his cup.

“That’s Berry dash Hudson now, Sam. Get it right.”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right. Berry dash Hudson.”

“But seriously, I’m happy on my own, Sam.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded and linked her arms around his waist. They’d always been like this since she’d gotten over being prickly when they’d dated. He was so obsessed with dating the head cheerleader and being the quarterback. It seemed a million years ago and only yesterday. He kissed the top of her head.

“Proud of you.”

“You know we’re proud of you, too. You stuck here and kept us all together.”

“What?” Surprised, he angled back so he could look down at her.

“You did,” she nodded.

“How so?”

“We all left, Sam. You were the one back here waiting on us to come back home. And keeping in touch with you kept us all together in a way.”

He’d never thought of it that way.

He’d just stayed because there hadn’t been any scholarships for a guy who couldn’t play ball anymore with a bum knee and did the only thing he knew how to do - he got a job. He was good at fixing cars and knowing when an engine was gonna take a shit and when it wasn’t. He was proud of being really good at something. Plus, working for Burt was easy. That guy never yelled and had the patience of a saint.

“That’s nice to say, Quinn. Not sure if it’s true, though.”

“It is. It’s so true.”

He let the thought sit. It was nice being thought of like that. Of being here when they needed him. If anything, he didn’t think anyone needed him like that but it was nice just the same.

The song ended and Rachel got up on the makeshift stage and took the microphone from the DJ. She tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears and smiled large. Sam smiled back at her. Mrs. Finn Berry-Hudson.

“We just wanted to say thanks to everyone for coming from....everywhere,” she laughed. “Who knew we’d get married after all of this?”

“WE DID!” the whole glee club hollered out.

Laughter rang out and several red cups were thrust into the air. Sam let out a whoop that would’ve made his grandpa Evans damned proud.

“All right, all right, settle down,” Rachel held out her hands and made the universal ‘down’ signal. “We just wanted to say thank you to all of you. Just thanks for being here, for bringing us back together, for talking Finn into coming to New York, and for always being here for us. Without you, well, we wouldn’t be here. This is from us, from Finn and I, to all of you.”

She blew a kiss to the audience, nodded to the DJ, and a familiar oldie country song came pouring out of the [speakers](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCf2PoTuh4Q&feature=related). Sam felt his gut clench. It was a song he’d listened to over and over the summer he was dating Mercedes. He’d sang it to her on a blanket during a picnic with his guitar on his lap. He looked over to find her staring at him.

“See you later, cowboy,” he heard Quinn say and then she was gone.

His feet found their way across the dance floor to stand in front of Mercedes.

“Sam...” she said.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said. He could tell by the way her eyes went wide that she was remembering all of it, too. Their prom, their summer, _their time_. “Would you like to dance with me?”

He held out a hand the way he had on that night when his suit felt stupid and his hair was too long and she didn’t care about that anyway, she’d said a million times over to him then, and he hoped it was still true. There was a big part of him sitting back there in that gym in McKinley and he wanted that part back. Not the part that was miserable and didn’t fit in his own skin, but the part that didn’t care, the part that loved her the way she deserved, and the part where they were together.

She took his hand and they walked over to where everyone else was swaying to the music. He put his arms around her and she looped her arms up around his neck. Their feet moved back and forth, around in circles as Blake Shelton’s voice sang to them. Sam whispered the words in time with the music, singing softly under his breath.

“We haven’t talked much,” Mercedes said, talking into his shoulder.

“Nope.”

He rested his hands on her hips and tilted back to look down at her.

“I wasn’t sure what to say to you when you showed up. You surprised me.”

“Ha, try getting your ass chewed by Rachel and then driving cross-country.”

She laughed and nodded her head at him.

“She always did have ass chewing down to an art form.”

“Pretty much.”

Their laughter died somewhere in the middle of them and he started down at her. He wondered if she thought it was creepy the amount of staring he’d done at her all these years.

“I didn’t do it for her, you know,” he said. “I did it ‘cause I wanted to see you again. I missed you.”

“Sam.”

“Seriously, Mercedes, it’s the truth. I mean, Rachel made me do it, but I did it because it was time.” He reached out with a shaking hand and put his hands on the sides of Mercedes face, running his thumbs across her cheeks. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. A lot.”

“I thought about you all the time. About us being stupid kids.”

“We were dumb.”

“I wanted you something fierce back then, though. Still do.”

He leaned down and kissed her soft, just touching their lips together. He nudged her lips apart and pulled her closer. When their rating went from PG-13 to something this side of R, he pulled back and rested their foreheads together.

“Let’s get outta here,” she said.

“Deal.”

He took her hand and wound his way through the crowd and into the night. Opening the passenger door of his truck for her, he tucked the train of her dress in and kissed her once more just because he could.

When he buckled up and started the ignition, he turned and looked at her. His Mercedes a little undone with her hair falling outta the fancy updo and his heart fell again after all that time.

“‘Bout time, too.”

Sam put the truck in drive and.... _drove_.


End file.
